O.K. Here in la-la land the hermit in his helmet calls the shots. Graduations of the conglomerate nudity is easy. Peaches and Pop slut it up for rock, I am just a by standing three chorder. Coffee and cigarettes make me the wanderer, wondering if it was easy I would. The U.S.A takes the stage and doing nothing makes a harder job than ever.
Your penis is a malfunctioning breakfast. No nun can deepen my eye to what I know is lost on my wit. The badger sleeps and the kangaroo too, both laying. I lie when I say I do not care for the richness of desires.
Now you must relax the grip on the piper. Your position is merely the foolish lover of the rivers. What are you doing?